


A Shoulder to Cry On

by Andromytta



Series: Paintings In My Mind [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Depressed Dean, Depression, Heavy Angst, I have a dark angsty heart and I'm not even sorry., M/M, Multiple Suicide Attempts, Read at your own risk., Song Producer Castiel, Suicide Attempt, Tommy Page, You're lucky I didn't actually kill anyone.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromytta/pseuds/Andromytta
Summary: Dean swallowed a handful of pills with a pull of whiskey straight from the bottle.  He continued this until he could no longer hold onto the bottle.  He cocooned himself within the sheets and blankets on Cas's side of the bed, holding his pillow tight, and waited to be swallowed by oblivion.That was how Castiel found him when he returned home from a late meeting at work.  Dean cocooned in the bed, not moving, not breathing, with barely any kind of heartbeat.





	A Shoulder to Cry On

**Author's Note:**

> Song referenced is "A Shoulder to Cry On" by Tommy Page. 
> 
> More info on this in end notes.

Dean lay on the bed, wrapping the bedding around him.  He embraced Cas's pillow, inhaling deeply.  This is how he wanted to go, surrounded by all things Cas.  He had several whiskey bottles and packages of over the counter sleeping pills within easy reach.  He had already depleted two of the bottles of Jack.

With Castiel, Dean had been the happiest he had been in his entire life.  Unfortunately, that still wasn't enough to quell the darkness that constantly gnawed at his soul.  Cas introduced him to the light, and for many happy years, it was enough to keep the darkness at bay.  Until suddenly it wasn't.

Dean knew his husband would be devastated.  He just hoped that he would understand.  Castiel had only ever wanted what was best for Dean.  Maybe he would understand that this, this was what was best now.  Before he was too far gone on pills and booze, he had to try to make Cas understand.  He grabbed his journal (that Cas had made him start) and tried to put into words why this was the best thing, for both of them.

_Cas,_

_It's too hard.  I'm too tired.  I just can't.  Not anymore.  Please understand.  This isn't about you, this is about me.  I just can't go on anymore._

He wanted to sign it with something about how much he loved Castiel, but then, he didn't.  Dean wasn't even fully sure if someone as broken as he was could even be capable of loving someone else.  He certainly couldn't love Cas the way he deserved to be loved.  Dean was sure about that.

Having that out of the way, it was time.  Dean swallowed a handful of pills with a pull of whiskey straight from the bottle.  He continued this until he could no longer hold onto the bottle.  He cocooned himself within the sheets and blankets on Cas's side of the bed, holding his pillow tight, and waited to be swallowed by oblivion.

That was how Castiel found him when he returned home from a late meeting at work.  Dean cocooned in the bed, not moving, not breathing, with barely any kind of heartbeat.  Somehow, Cas managed to keep it together well enough to call 911 and start CPR.  When the paramedics moved to take Dean away, that was when Cas noticed Dean’s journal.  He grabbed it as he followed the EMTs out.

***

As Castiel kept vigil at Dean’s hospital bedside, he read through Dean’s journal.  He’s appalled that he never noticed how Dean was spiraling out of control.  Every entry he read ended the same way, “I can’t let my darkness snuff out his light.”  Castiel didn’t understand what had changed.  Dean seemed fine, happy, and jubilant even.  He was aware that Dean had a dark pit in his soul, but Castiel was sure that Dean had it under control.  He let tears slip from his eyes, and by the time he got to Dean’s last entry, the one addressed to him, he was crying openly.

When Dean started to stir, Castiel breathed a sigh of relief.  “Dean? “  He asked hesitantly, placing a hand gently on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s eyes blinked and he looked over at the other man.  “Cas?  What are you doing here?”  Dean slowly looked around the room.  When understanding finally hit, he asked, “You saved me, didn’t you?”

“Of course, Dean.   I will always save you,” Cas answered, thinking he was being reassuring.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Dean said.  He rolled over, so he wasn’t facing Cas and shaking his hand off of his shoulder.  “Go away, Cas.”

“But, Dean…”  He didn’t get to finish his thought before Dean cut him off.

“I’m serious.  Go. Away.”  Dean could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.  He didn’t want Cas to see him crying.  Cas wasn’t supposed to see him like this, weak, unable to fight.  It was one thing to know he wouldn’t be around when Cas discovered that Dean had lost his battle with the darkness, but something else altogether to lose the battle and yet survive.

“If that’s what you really want, Dean,” Cas moved to pat Dean’s shoulder, but he flinched away from the touch.  “Very well, I’ll go.”

Dean didn’t even acknowledge it when Castiel left.  But once he heard the door to his hospital room shut, he let the tears freely fall.

***

Dean wasn’t sure how long he had been lying like that, minutes, hours, days?  He realized he had fallen asleep only when he was awakened by a finger poking his side.  “I told you to go away, Cas,” Dean muttered, not bothering to roll over.

“I’m not Cas,” said a perky female voice way too close to his ear.  The voice didn’t stop poking him either.

“I don’t care who you are.  Just go away.  Leave me alone.”  Dean tried to get away from the intrusion, only to be stopped by the metal barrier on the hospital bed.

“I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I let every suicidal patient boss me around,” the perky voice said.  Dean could practically hear her eye roll.  Also, she was still poking him.

“Can you at least stop poking me then?” Dean asked.  He was starting to get exasperated.

“Only if you roll over and talk to me, Dean.”  Perky voice was insistent. 

“I _am_ talking to you.  Whoever you are.”  Dean didn’t budge.

“I’m Dr. Charlie Bradbury.  You can call me Charlie.  I’m the head shrinker who’s been assigned your case.  Although even if I wasn’t the one who happened to be on call when you were brought in, I’d have taken it anyway.”

So, Perky Voice was his doctor.  That was just great.  Why didn’t anyone get the memo that he didn’t need help, didn’t want help, didn’t _deserve_ help?  Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone and let him trip off to oblivion?

“I _am_ talking to you,” Dean replied.  “And now I’m done.  Go. Away.”

Dr. Bradbury continued to gently poke him.  “Ok, technically you _are_ talking.  But you’re not saying anything.  Why are you here, Dean?”

“Can you at least stop poking me?” Dean ignored her question.

“Only if you roll over and look at me,” she answered reasonably.

“Fine,” he grumbled and rolled over.  When he did, he came face to face with brownish green eyes, freckles, and curly red hair.  “There’s got to be some hospital rule about a doctor being in bed with her patient,” Dean said sarcastically.

“Normally, I would agree with you.  But since I have a smoking hot blonde bikini model waiting for me at home, and you’ve got that super dreamy husband of yours in the waiting room, I don’t think anyone would bat an eyelash at us getting all cozy.”  So, maybe she exaggerated a tiny bit.  Her wife wasn’t a bikini model, but Charlie thought she was hot enough to be one.

“So because I’m married to a dude, what?  They give me the lesbian doctor?  Aren’t there laws against that?”  Maybe the doctor’s tactic was to annoy him enough that he forgot he wanted to kill himself?  Maybe make him want to kill her instead?

The doctor didn’t even try to hide her eye roll.  “No, that’s not it at all.  I was the psychiatrist on call when you came in, so I drew the short straw.  But I meant what I said when I said I’d have taken your case anyway.  And _not_ just because you have a dreamy hot husband.  Who clearly loves you a lot, by the way, you big dummy.”

“I know he does.  That was never the problem.  Cas is…Cas is perfect….”  Dean didn’t finish his sentence.  He really didn’t want to talk to this stranger about, well, anything.  He didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything anymore.

“So why did you send him away?” She didn’t sound so perky anymore.  Her voice had more of the concerned doctor tone that Dean had come to expect.

Resigned, Dean sighed before answering.  “Because he can’t save me anymore.”

Dr. Bradbury quirked an eyebrow at him in such a way that reminded him of Cas, which was weird.  “Care to elaborate?” she asked.

“No.” Dean huffed and rolled back over, turning his back on her again.

“You realize you’re just asking for me to start poking you again, right Dean?” she asked with a barely disguised chuckle.

“Don’t care.  I’m done.”  His voice was defeated.

“If you say so.  But just so you know, I can hold you for 72 hours, and after that, if there’s no improvement, your husband and your brother can choose to have you involuntarily committed.  So, it might be in your best interest to talk to me.”  There was no accusation in her voice, she was just reasonably pointing out the facts.

“My brother?  So that means Sammy is here too.  He knows what happened.”

“Yes.  Nurse Jessica encouraged Castiel to call a family member for support.  Especially after you sent him away.  They’re both in the waiting room.  They both want to see you.”

“I don’t want to see them.”  Dean was beyond over all of this.  He just wanted out of here so he could finish what he started.  He was fully aware that everyone just wanted to help him.  That they thought they were helping him.  How could he make them all understand that the best way to help him was to just let him go?  Why couldn’t anybody see that?

“Ok, so you’re stubborn.  That’s fine.  I can work with that.”  It was a declaration.  The doctor was determined.  And she started poking him again.

“Seriously, what the Hell kind of doctor are you anyway?” Dean asked, annoyed.

She stopped poking him and he could feel her shrug next to him.  “I’m the kind of doctor who gets results.”  The poking continued.

He rolled over again, if only to get the poking to stop.  He crossed his arms over his chest as best he could in the small, crowded bed and just looked at her.

“Will you answer a question for me, Dean?”

He shrugged.

Undeterred, Charlie continued her train of thought.  “Why would you want to give up blow jobs and sex with that dream boat husband of yours?  Seriously, if I swung that way, there’s nothing, _nothing_ on this plane or the next that could make me want to let _that_ go.”

“You know, for a chick who’s supposedly into chicks, you seem to be awfully interested in my husband.”  Dean’s eyes may have flashed even greener with jealousy.  Jealousy that he had to remind himself he had no right to feel.

She shrugged.  “What do you care?  You’re trying to leave him, remember?”  She smirked and continued.  “And when you do, he’ll need someone to comfort him.  My wife and I have always talked about experimenting…”

Dr. Bradbury’s words were cut off when Dean unceremoniously shoved her out of the bed.  She landed on the floor with an “Oof.” 

“Dammit, I should have known to put the other barricade back up,” she said as she stood up and rubbed her bottom.  “At least I got you to react to something with an emotion other than despair.  I win.”  She actually stuck her tongue out at him and strode triumphantly out of the room.

“Wish I had thought of that sooner,” Dean said to the now empty room.  Pulling the covers completely over his head, he curled into a ball on the bed and tried to not think.

***

Dean was awoken some time later by the most delicious smell.  Funny, he didn’t remember falling asleep after he managed to get rid of Dr. Bradbury.  When he sat up, Nurse Jessica was placing a meal on the tray table that folded over his bed.  “Aren’t burgers, fries, and is that _pie_? Aren’t those against hospital regulations?” Dean asked, surprised.

“Well, your doctor approved of it, so it’s not against the rules.  Dr. Bradbury’s wife and mother in law run this amazing dive bar just down the street that has the best burgers and the best pie,” the pretty blonde nurse explained to Dean with a smile on her face.  “Your brother told me pie was your favorite food ever.”

She’s been talking to Sam.  That’s right, Cas called him.  Great, now his baby brother knew about his failings too.  “Is he still here?”

Jessica nodded.  “Yep.  He’s still here, and so is Castiel.  Are you ready to see either of them yet?”  Her tone was gentle.  She wasn’t pushing him to see his family, just letting him know he had the option.

“How long have I been here?”  Dean rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment at even having to ask the question, but he felt like he had been asleep for a year.

Jessica smiled, shrugged, and stole a couple of his fries before answering.  “About eighteen hours.”

Dean tentatively reached out to his meal.  He wasn’t hungry, didn’t feel like he deserved delicious food anyway.  He slowly snagged a fry and chewed on it before speaking again.  “And Cas has been here this whole time?”

She nodded.  “Yeah.  And Sam arrived a few hours later.”  Jessica snagged a few more of his fries.

“Cas should go home, get some rest.  He’s working a big project at work.  He needs his rest…and to not be distracted by me.”  Carefully using the plastic knife that came in the take out bag, Dean somehow managed to cut the burger in half and silently offered the larger half to Jessica.  He vaguely remembered reading somewhere that nurses don’t get a lot of time to eat.  He wanted to offer her the whole thing, but knew she’d never take it.  He also realized that despite not wanting the food, he was, actually, starving.

Jessica breathed a subtle sigh.  “I tried telling him that.  Sam tried telling him that.  Dr. Bradbury tried telling him that.  He refuses to leave.  Castiel wants to make sure he’s still here in case you decide you do want to see him.”

Unbidden, tears started to streak down Dean’s face.  He scrubbed his hand over his eyes to try to squelch them.  That, that was why Dean hadn’t wanted Cas to find him, to save him.  The man’s unwavering love and faith in him, it was too much.  Much more than Dean ever deserved.  He should have never pulled Castiel into his life.  Castiel deserved so much better.

***

Castiel was scribbling furiously in his own notebook when Jessica came out to talk to him.  “Mr. Novak?”

He looked up at her and smiled softly.  “I told you to call me Castiel.”

“Of course, Castiel,” she smiled back.  “You can come with me.  Dean wants to see you.”

His soft smile turned into one that was more genuine than it had been since he first found Dean in their bed.

Cas walked into the room and sat down in the chair next to Dean’s bed.  “Hello, Dean.”

“Hi Cas,” Dean replied softly.

“Dean.” Cas practically breathed his name like it was the most precious sound known to man.  “I’m so glad you let me see you.”

“Go home, Cas.” Dean replied, more gruffly than he intended.

Cas just looked at him, his head tilted and eyes squinted.

Dean’s voice was softer this time.  “You need to go home.  Get some rest.  You’ll never finish that big project for work if you don’t take care of yourself.  So please, Cas, go home.”

Castiel cupped Dean’s face and lovingly stroked his cheek with his thumb.  “Don’t worry about me, Dean.  My project is taking care of itself.”  When Dean gave him a confused look, Cas continued.  “As usual, you have inspired me.”  He dropped his hand from Dean’s face to open up his notebook and pass it over to Dean.

Dean took it and scanned over the page.  He couldn’t read music for shit, but the lyrics, those he could read.

_Side by side.  With you til the end, I’ll always be the one to firmly hold your hand._

_No matter what is said or done, our love will always continue on._

_When the whole world is gone, you won’t be alone, ‘cause I’ll be there.”_

Castiel looked at him a bit sheepishly.  “It’s not complete yet.  I need to email it to the singer/songwriter I’m working with and see what he thinks, but it could be the start of his next big hit.”

“It’s lovely Cas.  Just like everything you write.  But this is just more reason why you should go home.  Or go to the studio.  You don’t have what you need here to work.  And I’m…I’m just a distraction.  Go home.”  Dean said those last two words with as much conviction as he could muster as he shoved the notebook back at Cas before rolling over on his side so that his back was towards the other man.

Cas didn’t leave.  Instead, he pulled the chair closer to Dean’s bed so that he could rub soothing circles on Dean’s back.  Dean didn’t flinch away, and before long, he had fallen asleep.  When he was awoken by someone entering the room, only then did Castiel realize he had also fallen asleep, his arms resting next to Dean on the bed and his head laying on them like a pillow.  He blinked groggily when someone gently shook his shoulder.  “Dr. Bradbury, hello.”

She gave him a stern look.  “I told you to call me Charlie.  I see he finally gave in and asked to see you.”

“Only to tell me to go home.”  He sighed heavily.  “Am I wasting my time here?  Is it better for Dean if I just go home?”

Charlie blinked at him a few times before answering.  “While Dean does need all the support he can get, it’s probably better for you if you go home and get some rest.  You’re no good to anybody if you’re exhausted.  Is there a reason you don’t want to go home, Castiel?”

Castiel had dropped his head into his hands while Charlie was talking.  When he looked back up at her, there was clear pain in his deep blue eyes.  “How can I go back there, sleep in our bed?  When I know…when I know what he tried to do in our home.  In our bed?  It’s…it’s too hard.  I need to be near him, help him.  I can’t go back to that home, to that bed, if he isn’t there with me.”

Charlie put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.  “I do understand.  But you should still find somewhere that’s not here to rest.  But, since you’re probably just as stubborn as your hottie husband over there, I guess I should tell you that Sam’s back with some stuff from your house.  Clean clothes and your work laptop.  So, at least you can get some work done and maybe change your clothes.   No offense, but you reek, dude.”

He gave her a tight smile.  “Thanks, Charlie.  I guess I should at least do that then.”

When he moved to leave, Charlie stopped him, “Oh, and you and Sam should discuss where you want to go from here.  In about a day and half we have to either commit him or release him.”

“I understand,” he said softly as he left the room.

***

Somehow, Dean had remained asleep throughout the exchange between his doctor and his husband.  He was only awakened by a finger poking his side, again.  This time, he grabbed the doctor by her wrist and tried to shove her off of the bed.  Charlie learned from her mistake, and replaced the guard on her side of the bed after she climbed in next to Dean.  She simply started poking him with her other hand.

“What the Hell kind of doctor are you, really?” he mumbled after he released her wrist and clutched onto his pillow, refusing to turn over and engage the doctor.

“The kind who likes to poke her stubborn patients because it’s fun.” She replied easily, poking him with both hands now.

“I should report you to the AMA or something,” still mumbling into his pillow. 

“Well, you’d have to be well enough to be released to do something like that,” Charlie stated logically.

Dean rolled over with a huff.  Anything to get the damn poking to stop.  “Happy?” he asked.

“Thrilled,” she answered sardonically.  Then, without preamble, she went right into her question.  “So…you talked to Castiel?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And what?” Dean snapped.

“How did that make you feel?” Charlie asked, not even bothering to hide her eye roll.  Even as a shrink, she _hated_ having to ask that question.

“Do we really have to talk about my feelings?”

“Um, hello?  Psychiatrist over here,” Charlie spun her finger around her face, “feelings are kind of what we do.”

Dean pulled his pillow out from behind them and held it over his head with both hands, trying to stifle his frustration.  He pulled the pillow away and huffed, “Fine.  Seeing Cas made me feel…I dunno…sad?  Upset?”

“Is this because…how did you put it…You don’t want your darkness to snuff out his light?”

“He showed you my journal, didn’t he?”  Well, Dean could identify how _that_ made him feel.  “Now I’m feeling betrayed, just FYI.”

Charlie chose to ignore that statement and merely continued on with her observations.  “Don’t you think that losing you, the love of his life, could be the thing to snuff out his light?”  Charlie was good at her job, and even though Dean barely would speak to her, she had still gotten to know him through his family, and yes, his journal that Castiel insisted she should look at.  Trying to get through to Dean for his own sake wouldn’t work, but if she could get through to him for the sake of his family, then she felt she might get somewhere.

The look he gave her clearly told her that Dean hadn’t thought about that.  After several beats of contemplation, he finally answered.  “No.  Cas is strong.  He’ll eventually get over me and move on.  But if I continue to bring all of this,” he gestured to himself, “into his presence, then yes, that could destroy him.  He shouldn’t be stuck with having to constantly reassure me or even to have to deal with me.”

“He’s not ‘stuck’ with you, Dean.  He loves you.  He chose you, even after knowing about that dark pit you insist you have in your soul.  Castiel still chose you.”  Charlie paused for her own beat of contemplation before continuing.  “Besides, without the darkness, how would we identify the light?”

“You’re not going to start that ying and yang, there’s no light without the dark crap, are you?”

“No, Dean.”  Charlie responded with a shake of red curls.  “I just wanted to give you something to think about.”

***

Yes, Charlie had given him something to think about.  And apparently had given him some kind of mind altering prescription to boot, judging by the fact that when Jessica brought him his food (more food from the dive bar, apparently) she also brought a tiny white cup with pills in it.  “I’m not taking those  You can’t force me to take them.” He stated.

This time, they didn’t talk as much as they shared his meal again.  Afterwards, Jessica held the pills out to him again.  “You’re right, I can’t make you take them, but the harder you make it for Dr. Bradbury to treat you, the more likely she is to recommend to Sam and Castiel that they have you committed.”

“I don’t care.  I don’t want to take anything that’s going to alter my brain chemistry.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow at him.  “But you drink, right?  That alters your brain chemistry.”

“Only temporarily.  These kinds of pills,” he shakes the cup in her face, “You have to take them all the time and they turn you into a different person.  I don’t want to be a different person.”

“Why do you care about that if you’re just going to try to kill yourself again once you get out of here?”

Damn, was she psychic?  “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to, Dean.  I’ve been a psychiatric nurse for a while.  I know these things.”

Dean raked his fingers through his hair and tugged.  Shit, he had to get out of here.  This was too much for him.  Examining his feelings, nurses being able to read his mind, Cas sleeping on the hard chairs in the waiting room (Jessica just had to bring that up earlier.)  This was too much for him to handle.  Why was he still here?  “Fine, I’ll take the damn pills!” He said with conviction before upending the cup into his mouth.

Jessica nodded curtly to him, gathered up the debris from their food, and left.  Once the door closed behind her, Dean spit the pills back out into the little paper cup.  He had a plan.  He knew if he got caught, it would definitely lead to him being committed, no matter what Cas and Sam had to say.  But if he didn’t get caught….then he would finally find blessed silence.

***

The remaining hours passed much like the previous ones.  Charlie would wake him by climbing in his bed and poking him; Jessica would bring him pills and encourage him to see his family.  Dean was completely nonresponsive to them, not even bothering to eat the food Jessica brought on what was supposed to be his final night in the ward.  Dr. Bradbury convinced Castiel and Sam to sign him in for another week of treatment.  She was sure she could get through to him.  The private hospital wasn’t cheap, but as one of the top music producers in the country, the money was no object to Castiel.  The two men readily agreed to continue Dean’s treatment and signed the necessary forms.  After, Jessica offered to take a worried Sam out for a drink while Castiel stayed and fretted over both his husband and his music.

***

Towards the end of the week, Dean felt like he had enough pills saved to finally put an end to, well, everything.  He actually joined Jessica when she brought the food from the Roadhouse.  Since he had started sharing his meals with her, she finally had brought enough for the both of them.  Sometimes he ate with her, sometimes he just stared at her silently while she ate.  Tonight, though, he wanted to spend time with her.  After, he asked her to send in his family.  First Sam, then Cas.

Sam bounded in like an over excited puppy.  This was the first time Dean had even wanted to see him since he’d been in the hospital.  Only after the third time Dean barked at him to “Chill the fuck out, dude,” did Sam finally take a seat in the chair next to the bed.

Sam tried to ask Dean how he was doing, but Dean kept turning the questions back to him until the conversation became solely about Sam’s budding relationship with Jessica and him being made junior partner at the law firm where he worked.  This was good.  Sammy was doing great.  He would be fine.  Before he let his little brother leave, Dean gathered him in a firm hug and told him how much he loved him and how proud he was of him.  If Sam suspected this was a goodbye, he didn’t acknowledge it.

Dean took a deep breath and steeled himself for the next part.  Seeing Cas, talking to him, having to actually say goodbye, Dean didn’t want to do it.  But this was what was best, for himself as well as for his husband.

When Cas entered the room, he sat down in the chair next to Dean’s bed, clutching his song writing notebook to his chest.  “Hello, Dean,” was all he could say as he looked over his husband’s beautiful features.  There was peace behind Dean’s apple green eyes, and a soft smile on his lips.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean replied.  “How’s the song coming along?”

“I completed the first verse.  Tommy is playing with the melody now.  We should have it finished in no time.”

“That’s..that’s great.  Can I see it?”  Dean both did and did not want to see it.  He had a feeling that what Cas meant when he told Dean that he inspired it, it had something to do with his current situation.  If he saw what was written on those pages, he might lose his nerve.

“Of course, Dean.  You know I’ll always share my music with you.”  Cas opened the notebook and passed it over to Dean.

_Life is full of lots of up and downs_

_And the distance feels further_

_When you're headed for the ground_

_And there is nothing more painful than to let your feelings take you down_

_It's so hard to know the way you feel inside_

_When there's many thoughts and feelings that you hide_

_But you might feel better if you let me walk with you_

_By your side…._

“Is this…is this how you really feel, Cas?”  Dean asked, even though he already knew what Cas would say, and dreaded hearing him say it.

“Of course it is, Dean.  Whatever it is you’re going through, I want to be there for you, make it better, easier for you.  Let me walk with you through the darkness, Dean.  Please?”  Castiel’s cobalt eyes were pleading.

“I can’t, Cas.  I can’t drag you down with me.  You deserve so much better.  Why can’t you see that?  Why can’t anybody see that?”

“Because we love you, Dean.  Why can’t you see that?”

Dean suddenly became angry, and he wasn’t sure why.  “That’s really fucking selfish of you, you know that?”  He was shouting, but he couldn’t stop himself.  “You, Sam, everyone.  None of you care about how much I’m suffering, as long you don’t ‘lose me’.  Well, guess what?  I’ve already lost myself, and nobody noticed.  Not a single person.  So don’t tell me how much you love me!  If you really, truly cared for me at all, you’d do us all a favor and let me go.”  His shouting had dissolved to manic tears.  He desperately, achingly wanted the people he loved to just let him go, let him stop hurting…let them stop being hurt by him.  He just wanted to be numb, to be gone.

Castiel just sat there for several minutes, shocked and stunned before he finally spoke, softly.  So softly it was almost as if he were speaking to himself.  “You’re right, Dean.  It’s wrong of me to want you to continue to hurt like this just because I like having you in my life.  It is selfish, and I’m sorry.  I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”  With a heavy sigh, he got up and left the room.

Once he was alone, Dean got out of bed and collected the pills he had hidden in various places around his small room.  Only a day or two after he started hoarding them, Jessica had found the ones he kept under his pillow, so he had to get creative.  Once he collected them all, he got back into the bed and was about to swallow them down when his extremely, annoyingly clever nurse barged in and knocked the pills out of his hand.

“You think I didn’t know what you were up to, Dean Winchester?  I told you I’ve been doing this for a while.  I knew you were planning this, I just didn’t know when until tonight when you asked to see your family.  You’re due to be released the day after tomorrow, why would you risk that with this little stunt?”

“You know why,” he answered miserably before returning to his defensive position, curled up in bed, under the blankets and facing the wall.

***

The week was up, and it was ushered in by Castiel and Sam arguing about whether or not to continue Dean’s treatment.  Jessica told them what happened after their visit, and Sam insisted that was proof Dean needed more time under Charlie’s care.  Cas said that it was proof that Dean didn’t want their help, and more time in the hospital wouldn’t change that.  Charlie offered a compromise that Dean could be released, but only if he agreed to seeing her no less than twice a week and agreed to actually take his medications.

Castiel easily agreed to those conditions, and signed the requisite forms stating he’d be responsible for Dean following through.  He didn’t care what he had to sign; he just had to get Dean out of there.  Castiel loved Dean more than anything, and would give him anything that he wanted, and if what Dean wanted was to leave them all behind, Castiel would give him that too, but on his own terms.

He strode purposefully into Dean’s room, practically shoved a change of clothes at him and said, “Change clothes, I’m taking you home.”  His commanding voice left Dean no room to argue.

Castiel didn’t say another word after that, and Dean didn’t question him.  Once he was dressed, he had to practically run to keep up with his husband’s long, purposeful strides.  When they got out to the parking lot, Cas opened the passenger side door of Dean’s Baby, a black 1967 Chevy Impala.  “Why do you get to drive?” Dean asked.

“Why do you care?  Who do you think is going to be driving it when you’re gone?” Cas asked tightly.

Dean shrugged and got in the car.  The man had a point, and Dean was too tired to argue.  Once they were on the highway and headed home, Dean couldn’t keep his questions to himself any longer.  “Cas, what’s going on?”

Keeping his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel, Castiel took a deep breath and replied.  “You don’t want to keep hurting anymore, and I don’t want you to hurt anymore.  I love you too much for that.  But I need you to give me one last thing before I help you find your peaceful oblivion.”

“Anything,” Dean breathed.  The relief he felt was immeasurable.  Cas finally understood.

“One last night together.  A date night, so to speak.  I want to cook your favorite meal, be intimate with you, just be _with_ you.  If this is going to be your last night on Earth, I want it to be special.  And I want to you to hear my song.  After all of that, if you still can’t give me one more day together, then I will help you find your peace, Dean.  I’ll make sure you don’t come back this time.  But you have to give me this..this chance to say goodbye.”

Dean nodded.  “Yes, Cas, anything you want.  Thank you.”

“And if you change your mind and decide you want to try to keep going for just one more day, I’ll be there for you.”

“I understand.”  Dean didn’t think he would change his mind, but if thinking that would help Cas through this, Dean would let him have that.

***

Even though burgers, fries, and pie had become his standard fare in the hospital, there was nothing like Cas’s homemade bacon cheeseburgers, hand cut fries, and apple pie.  As Dean devoured the amazing meal, he couldn’t stop smiling.  It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  Cas finally understood.  Dean didn’t have to pretend anymore.  He just had to give his husband one last night, a chance to say goodbye, and he could be free.  He had never felt this way before.

After dinner, they curled up on the sofa and watched Dean’s favorite episodes of “Dr. Sexy, MD.”  Cas hated the show, but it was Dean’s favorite, so that’s what they watched.  Castiel wanted to make this night as special for Dean as possible.  If he could convince Dean to hold on for one more day after this, maybe eventually, he could convince him one more week, one more month, one more year.  If he couldn’t, at least he had memories of Dean being happy and carefree to carry with him.

When they made love that night, as Cas moved inside of him and peppered his skin with soft kisses and words of praise, pure love shining in his blue eyes, Dean almost started to wonder how he could give all of this up.  It was perfection.  It was the closest to true happiness Dean had ever experienced in his life.  As they lay there in the afterglow, Dean couldn’t help but express how much he loved the man lying next to him, how much he meant to him, and that he would have probably been gone long ago if Castiel had not come into his life.

There was one more thing Cas had asked of Dean before he could say goodbye.  Dean had to hear the song he wrote.  He wrote for Dean as much as for the singer he was trying to help find his way back to the charts.  He retrieved his work computer from the desk and cued up the completed song file.  The upbeat melody was a stark contrast to the pleading in the lyrics, yet it worked beautifully.

[A Shoulder to Cry On](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-_4g5PNBvg)

They cuddled on the bed together as the last strains of the song filtered in then out of the room.  Castiel looked over at Dean and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, trying to hide the tears that were fighting for dominance in his heart.  “Thank you for giving me this, Dean.  If you’re ready, I’ll collect the things we need now.”  He actually did purchase the booze and pills Dean used before, despite the fact that he was hoping for him to change his mind.

As Cas tried to stand up to get out of the bed, Dean pulled him back down and into his arms.  “Just one more day, Cas, OK?  Can we have one more day?”

He kissed the top of Dean’s head to hide the smile he couldn’t stop.  “Yes, Dean.”  He kissed his forehead.  “Anything, Dean.”  He kissed his cheeks, “As many days as you want.”  Castiel captured Dean’s lips in a deep, hungry, relieved kiss.  He could give him one more day, and as many days after that, as long as Dean wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> When I started writing this fic, I had no intention of adding a song to it, or making Cas a song writer/producer. But when I started writing it, my Pandora station started playing "A Shoulder to Cry On" by Tommy Page Every. Single. Day. I realized it fit this fic beautifully and had to find a way to fit it in.
> 
> Only when I was researching the lyrics for the song, did I find out that he died in March of this year. Tommy Page's music has always had a profound influence on me. My first foray into fan fiction was probably actually the musical I wrote in my head based on two of his albums. Unfortunately, that never made it onto paper. Most of you will probably not recognize the song featured in this, but may know him for his one hit from the late 80s/early 90s that featured vocals from New Kids on the Block, "I'll Be Your Everything."
> 
> So, I guess, this is a love letter to Tommy Page as much as it is to Dean and Cas. His exceptional talent will truly be missed.


End file.
